Have You Ears to Hear?
by k4writer02
Summary: Who is more ruthless than the King of Thieves? Just because George Cooper has a sense of humor doesn’t mean he isn’t deadly when he needs to be. Response to Challenge 20 at the Dove.


Title: Have You Ears to Hear? Challenge Twenty  
  
Author: Kate, k4writer02  
  
Disclaimer: I disclaim. None of it's mine.  
  
Rating: PG-13, adult themes of abuse and murder  
  
Summary: Who is more ruthless than the King of Thieves? Just because George Cooper has a sense of humor doesn't mean he isn't deadly when he needs to be.  
  
Author's Notes: Un-betaed. All mistakes are my own. Please point them out constructively, if you see them. Feedback is adored! This little ditty was inspired by the ruthless royal challenge at the Dove and Stefan's lines in ATFA (page 65 in the mass market paperback.) "George'll have all our ears ... George has a collection. One slip an' he warns ye. Two, an' he takes an ear—fer his collection. Three mistakes—" Stefan shrugged. "He takes t'other ear and all that's attached. George likes things done right." I rather thought that the king of thieves was the most ruthless of them all, despite how much I like him.  
  
Notes on revision: Props to everyone who pointed out my lack of clarity in some phrasing. Thank you, I genuinely appreciate it. The story has been changed to reflect my meaning here. I added a few new details and pruned a few others--hope you like it.  
  
Also, when I wrote, I was envisioning George and Rispah's relationship as almost big brother to little sister. I'm close to my older cousin, who likes to watch out for me, and I know that nothing brings out protective instincts like a new relationship, even with a good guy.  
  
George Cooper enters the underworld of thieves and rogues young. He's the son of an ex-priestess turned healer. Nobody seems to know anything about his father. All anybody can/will tell him is that his mother—sensible, capable, Eleni—fell for a heedless reckless handsome boy who married her and deserted her in the space of a year. It's that void of knowledge that draws his interest to the world of secrets and tales.  
  
There are hard times, when they barely scrape through, and any extra coins goes to Eleni's sister and her daughter, Rispah. George's mother and aunt work long hours, so the children pass the time together. They go crooked young; all it takes to turn Rispah is a taste of honey cake and a couple of pennies to buy Midwinter presents. She is seduced by frequent baths, pretty clothes, perfume, jewelry, promises of luxury, and of course by the fact that George says it's okay. Rispah never does anything George forbids, and how can he forbid something so attractive? What other options do they have?  
  
George is lured more by the secrets and by the knowledge that flows from the King of Thieves. He watches and absorbs codes and hand signs, the interaction of men, the language of power. He learns how to pick a pocket so lightly none feel his questing fingers, and how to hear what is said across the room. He thrives. He is the most promising of his age, going from scout to pickpocket to cat burglar to King of the Rogue in seven years.  
  
He is young. The thieves and assassins and prostitutes and pickpockets who have not seen him in action doubt him. There are few in Corus, but they are enough that he keeps an eagle eye on his own back. George understands the language of power, understands how to cause fear and obedience without causing hatred.  
  
He makes Rispah his queen. She has good instincts for people, and he will never question her loyalty. And even though he tumbles pretty flower sellers and flirting servants who supplement their own incomes with Rogue coin for spying on their employers, none of them move his soul. They are diversions, but Rispah has always been there, scrabbling in the dirt to call something in this world her own. He wants to earn enough money to protect her from stale men who smell of brandy. She is above scum like that. He looks at her like a little sister, only dearer, because he doesn't have a sister and knows how lonely the world would be without her. When bitterness threatens him, she reminds him about joy. He tries to tell her that, and she laughs, and kisses his cheek and tells him he is seeing through illusions. She calls herself a nothing, a gutter girl. He cannot imagine that she does not see the truth of herself. She is a rose among thorns, the better side of him.   
  
She begins a relationship with a thief, who was born a merchant, but betrayed his own kind out of greed. He is rich, and he showers her with things. He gives her a dress made out of Yamani silk, fine and cool as water. He rents a suite for her, in an airy palatial building. He brings her food—oranges from the far south, spices from the Copper Isles, tea from Sarain, Gallan honey, imported wines. She is seduced and entranced by the sensual pleasures he shares with her. At first, George is cautiously pleased. Rispah's man seems to treat her well, and at least she is no longer on the street. But George knows that her thief is prouder and crueler than any noble. He sees warning signs when the kittens she saved out of gutters (she always was kind) are relocated to new homes, replaced by a hostile overbred lapdog.  
  
George hates her thief, but he bides his time and keeps his silence, because the man does his job well. He pays his percentages on time and in full, and he keeps his lips sealed around Provost's men. After the glamour of the riches wears off, George does not know what Rispah imagines she sees in the man. It's the first time she does something her favorite cousin disapproves of.  
  
The first time the thief hits her and rips hair from her head, she wears a scarf of Yamani water-silk around her temples, and thinks George does not know. He decides to keep his silence to his cousin, trusting Rispah to come to him when she needs help. He goes to see the thief though, and warns him that no man treats a queen cruelly without reprisals. He doesn't punish the thief this time, because Rispah wouldn't like that. But he makes a promise to himself that if it happens again, he'll teach the thief a lesson.  
  
The second time it happens, she sneaks in to see his mother. Eleni heals her niece's bruised face and asks no questions. As a former servant of the Mother, she recognizes the marks of a man's hands on a woman's face, and she weeps for Rispah's lost innocence. She sold her soul for a little wealth, and even if she gets it back, things can never be as they were before. Eleni alerts her son, who recognizes the first true challenge to his authority.  
  
The King of Thieves does not trust his men with such a mission, so he goes alone to see the cruel fool. He issues a warning clearly. The underling listens respectfully, bows his head, and swears he will not raise a hand to Rispah again. But George says: "You didn't hear me the first time, boy. How do I know you hear me now?"  
  
The thief swears he has heard his king, but George takes an ear with his favorite knife, to reinforce the lesson. He begins a collection of ears that night, which he keeps in a velvet-lined box.  
  
The third time Rispah needs a healer, she does not go to Eleni. She tries to set the broken bones in her wrist, and breathes shallowly so that her cracked rib won't puncture her lung. She is crying, because she has seen that the fine clothes and wine and food and words were pretty lies she wanted to believe. She's a beautiful woman, and she knows it, but she's no lady. With the thief, she could pretend. But today, there is no more pretending.   
  
She knows that her aunt told George about the thief's treatment of her, because her man cursed her for it as he bled on her and beat her. She waits to seek a healer until the pain causes her to pass out. George finds her on the floor of his room, her last refuge. She is near death. He carries her to Eleni's, so she will be taken care of. He dresses in all black and conceals knives on his person. He leaves the house with murder in his eyes. His mother does not ask him where he is going.  
  
He begins a new collection that night—a collection of all that's attached to an ear of men who don't hear. And he makes sure that Rispah's men don't forget that her cousin came first, and will stay longer than the last. Rumors about the Rogue's collection spreads through Corus. His followers repeat them in tones tinged with awe and respect. The tale grows, because who wants to believe that the Rogue will take a life for a personal affront?  
  
Marek Swiftknife spreads the tale that Rispah's thief made an unauthorized gambit that brought Provost's attention to the Rogue. After that, everyone agrees that there was nothing else for the Rogue to do about such a traitor/fool. For the most part, the Court of the Rouge heeds the warning. If you disregard the Majesty of the Lower City, you don't ever need to worry about the swiftness of King's Justice—the Rogue's Revenge works faster.


End file.
